


Trouble on the Homefront

by flooj9235



Series: Fallout 3 - Jackverse [4]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flooj9235/pseuds/flooj9235
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lone Wanderer returns to Vault 101 after picking up Amata's emergency signal.  The rebellion is in full swing, and the Lone Wanderer will do just about anything to help the girl she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My hands shake as I type Amata's name into the panel outside Vault 101's door. I can't believe it. I'm actually back at Vault 101, the place I used to call home. I hesitate before hitting the switch, still unable to wrap my mind around this sudden turn of events. No one was ever supposed to enter or leave this hole in the ground, and yet I've been out and am going back in.

When I press the handle, the door begins to slide with an ear-splitting screech. Sparks fly as metal scrapes against metal. Then, the door silently rolls out of the way.

Amata's message and the slightly frantic tone of her voice plays through my mind again, and I check to make sure my Pipboy hasn't been activated by mistake. I know that even though it's been months since my dad and I left, the people in the Vault will probably still try to attack me on sight. Hostility has a way of hanging around. "Best to lay low," I mutter, sneaking through the familiar halls.

I make it all the way to the atrium before someone yells out a "Hey! Stop right there!" My first instinct is to shoot, thanks to life in the wasteland, but the familiarity of the voice stops me. I turn around, hand on my pistol, just in case. "Officer Gomez?"

A look of recognition, followed by a relieved smile, crosses his face. "Thank God you're not some raider that's blasted their way in. How ya doin', kid? Did you find your dad?"

The flash of emotion on my face speaks for me.

"Sorry," he says, "I wish it could have worked out differently."

"Me too," I mutter. "What happened down here?"

Gomez shakes his head. "You saw the chaos unfolding as you left, I'm sure. It never got any better. The Overseer only cracked down more and refused to come out of his office. I don't know how many dissenters he told us to beat or kill." The security guard looks a little ill at the thought.

My mind flashes back to the blur of a day that I'd left the Vault, when I'd been frozen to the spot while Amata cried out in pain. Pain that had been ordered by her father. I realize a moment later that my grip on the handle of my pistol is so tight that my knuckles are white. "Where's Amata?"

Ten minutes and a few close calls later, I'm walking toward my dad's old clinic.

"Who goes there?" Butch's familiar voice crows as he pokes his head out from behind a makeshift barricade. I see him waving a baseball bat and roll my eyes.

"Can it, DeLoria," I tell him, stepping around the nearest overturned footlocker that's obviously meant to slow down security guards.

"My God, it's you! You're alive!" There's something akin to friendliness in his eyes as he steps out from behind his barricade, but I ignore that; he's bitten me too many times before. "Ha, I  **knew**  you could make it! I knew it!"

I continue to walk past him, slipping into the clinic that still smells slightly of antiseptic. My old classmates and a few adults I knew in my childhood are gathered there, talking and playing games while they kill time. Amata isn't among them, and for a second, I worry. Then I notice the light on in what used to be my father's office.

I know it can only be Amata inside, likely trying to plan a solution for the Vault. My heart quickens at the thought of my best friend, and I'm only slightly surprised that my old crush on Amata is still as strong as it used to be.  _Absence makes the heart grow fonder,_ my mind chirps and I roll my eyes.

For an instant, I'm frozen in place, unaware of everyone clamoring around me. My mind is full of images of Amata's reaction to seeing me. The thought snaps me back to my senses and I offer everyone gathered around a grin. "Hey guys."

They all start talking at once, but I hold up a hand to silence them, surprised when it works. "I'm glad to see you're all still alive and as well as you can be, given the situation. I'm here to help in any way I can, promise." I'm glad I had stopped by Megaton and bathed recently; I was suddenly very aware of the cleanliness of the Vault around me. "Do me a quick favor?" They all nod, looking almost in awe of me. "Keep quiet; I wanna surprise Amata." The rebels quietly step aside and let me move through the clinic toward the office.

I hit the door switch and it slides open soundlessly. I step into the office and let the door close, my eyes going to the desk.

Amata is slumped forward in the chair, leaning on the desk and resting her head on her folded arms. She isn't snoring, but I know she's asleep. Judging by the maps of the Vault and the scribbled on sheets of paper around her, I can tell she's been hard at work. Knowing Amata, she wore herself out so completely she didn't have time to make it to the cot near the desk.

I slide my pack off my shoulder, letting it drop to the ground quietly. My boots clump on the floor much too loudly for my liking as I cross the room and crouch beside her chair.

"'Mata," I call softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Wake up."

My best friend jerks awake, sitting up with a startled gasp. She takes a moment to get her bearings before realizing there's a hand on her shoulder. Amata looks over at me, not really registering my presence. Her face becomes the picture of disbelief a second later and she overturns the chair as she flings herself into my arms and throws her arms around me.

"You came!" she murmurs, burying her face into the metal armor covering my shoulder. "You actually got my message and came back!"

"Of course I did." I wrap an arm around her, failing to keep my mind under control. My brain fills with fantasies of sharing a kiss as a greeting, confessions of love, and other things of the like. I fight to keep my cheeks from going red, but there's no stopping them.

After a few more moments in Amata's bone-crushing hug, she releases me, and we step away from each other, taking each other in. I stare at her, committing every gorgeous detail of her that I didn't already know to memory. Her eyes go to the scars on my face and widen.

"What happened to you?" she asks, reaching out and touching them gently, as if she won't believe they're real unless she can feel them.

"Attacked by somethin' or other," I manage, breathless at her touch. Oh yeah, my crush on her is definitely hanging around. "Remember Brotch talking about the bears that used to be here?"

Amata nods, her brow furrowing as she no doubt remembers the images from our old history and science classes.

"They're still around up there, but a lot less cute. And more mean than Brotch let on." I'm tempted to show her my ear and the gap in it where a Raider tore a chunk out when they'd jumped me from behind, but I decide to change the subject. "What happened down here?"

Amata's face displays her concern at my mention of the yao guai, but the moment the topic changes to the Vault, she switches over into the leader I'd always seen in her. "The Overseer cracked down on everyone. The people that had helped you escape got punished pretty severely. I got a group together to go and try to talk sense into him, but he wouldn't have it, and we ran here."

As Amata goes into detail about what's happened to the Vault, the memory that had struck me while talking to Officer Gomez resurfaces. The sight had haunted me since I'd seen it, seeming worse than a lot of the more disturbing sights in the wasteland. My hands curl into fists and I wait for her to pause for breath.

"Did he hit you again?"

The dark tone of my voice startles her out of her thoughts. "What? Who?"

"Your dad," I clarify, vaguely remembering beating the tar out of the Overseer's bodyguard as I fought to protect the girl I love. My own use of the "L" word throws me for a loop, but I decide to focus on that later; Amata's answer is far too important.

"Oh." Amata's face darkens. "It... doesn't really matter. He and I are on different sides now."

I close my eyes as I let what she left unsaid sink in. "How dare he. How DARE he! I should-"

"Stop it." The forcefulness of Amata's tone actually makes me stop instantly, rather than continue to mutter. A tired sigh escapes her and she closes her eyes a moment. "Whatever part of my father that was still inside him has been swallowed up by that... that fiend in his body. He has no love for me."

The pain in her voice immediately quells the anger that had been pulsing through me. I'm not sure how to respond, but everything in me is aching to hold her and fix everything that's gone wrong.

"Whatever," she mutters after a beat of silence. "Come on, it's probably dinner time. Time to ration out some food." She leads me out of the office and back into the clinic.

I help to divvy out the supplies, not taking any for myself. The last thing I want to do is take away from my old peers. When I receive a few questioning looks, I grin sheepishly. "I've got some stuff in my pack; it'll be enough for me."

Everyone seems to accept that for an answer, and I continue handing out food to people from my past. Once they've received their portion, people scatter across the clinic to eat, either with friends, or alone.

I watch as Amata sets her rations aside, going around to every person to check on them and say a few kind words to them. My heart warms at the sight; she's always gone out of her way to make sure everyone around her is happy, and even in the midst of this, she's still at it. It's just another reason I love her.

My inner dialogue's use of the word "love" strikes me as strange again, and I turn away so Amata won't look up and see my red cheeks. I desperately need a distraction, so I duck back into the office and get some food out of my bag, taking an extra second or two to compose myself. Then I rejoin everyone in the clinic, plopping down to eat beside Amata.

Everyone seems rather in awe of me, and subtly form a circle around me.

"Hey," Butch suggests as he tears open a package with his teeth. "Tell us a few stories about what it's like up there."

A few people echo his request, and a glance at a curious Amata gives me no choice. I decide to stick to the less danger-filled stories, knowing that terrorizing them isn't the smartest plan, what with the entire Vault apparently still being in a high-strung state of chaos.

I start with the sky, describing how huge it is. That seems to fascinate them, and a few of my old peers actually look disappointed when I move on to describe how I stumbled across Megaton.

"I hadn't had a real drink in hours, and it was hot enough that I wanted to melt. The wind was ripping across the ground, picking up all sorts of dust and dirt. It stung when it hit skin. I was getting delirious and all I knew was that I had to find some sort of shelter from the wind." As hot as it was at the time, a shiver runs through me as I realize how close I'd come to dying less than a week out of the Vault. "I kinda picked a direction and started walking, and I ended up finding this old pre-war bathtub. I crawled into it and curled up, and it gave me enough shelter from the wind to let me breathe a little. I heard this weird sound, like a robot walking up. Then I looked up and there was a Protectron standing over me. 'Howdy, pard-nur,'" I mimic, eliciting a few giggles from my audience. "He kept saying 'Welcome to Megaton' and mentioned something about getting a drink. I got up and followed him, and found myself looking up at this giant metal shell of a wall. Inside it was this protected little city. I got a drink and got to know a few people, and it became a sort of home base for me. It's cool," I finish with a smile.

Everyone looks appreciative, and most of the faces are full of wonder as they try to imagine what I've described.

"Aw, c'mon," Butch breaks in. "We can all see the scars! Tell us a real story!"

I falter, wanting to glare at Butch; this was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. Unfortunately for me, everyone seems eager to hear the more dangerous stories. I cast a helpless glance at Amata, who looks half-interested and half-worried. I get the feeling she doesn't really want the dreams of the outside dashed, but I can't help but wonder if part of it is that she's worried to hear about what I've gone through.

Amata looks away and gives me a little shrug as if to say "go for it."

"Uh..." I shift uncomfortably, trying to think of something. "Well, there was this one time I was walking through DC and saw this giant ant." I hold out my arms to show the size, getting a few bug-eyed faces in response. Part of me wants to laugh at the irony, but I continue with my story. "I was still pretty naive at that point, so I didn't think too much of it, other than wonder how it got so big. All the radiation's done some weird stuff, though, so it was pretty easy to just assume it was because of that and carry on. But I didn't really realize the ant had seen me." I pause for effect, getting my thoughts in order as everyone seems to lean in interestedly. A glance at Amata shows that she's interested, too, though she seems to be expecting a violent turn. "Sure enough, I heard a little bit of scuttling behind me, and turned around just in time to see this ant rear up. The next thing I know, everything's on fire. My armor, the brush on the ground, everything. I was terrified, too much to really feel it burning. I tried to run away, and when the ant followed me, I realized the ant was spitting the fire."

There's surprised murmuring going on around me.

"At that point, I was so terrified I didn't really know what to do. It was either run away, or try to kill it. I tried to turn and run, but it shot fire at me again, so I realized I'd have to kill it or it'd kill me before I could get away. I couldn't see to aim my gun at it through the fire, so I grabbed a piece of pipe laying on the ground and started swinging at it. It took a few good hits, but it finally hissed and dropped dead. I dropped the pipe and ran toward the river; the adrenalin was wearing off and I could feel everything burning. I threw myself in the water and let everything soak and quit burning. My armor was shot, and I had a few good sized burns, but I obviously survived."

That seems to satisfy them and they all finish their meals and break off into little groups, murmuring about giant ants and other horrors of the wasteland they've dreamed up. Amata and I look at each other, shrugging before cleaning up some of the trash and returning to the office.

"That was... interesting," she says as we settle down on the floor across from each other.

"Yeah." I scratch my nose and lean back against the wall. "I'm kinda surprised everyone was so dead set on hearing stories. I'm lousy at telling them."

Amata gives me an incredulous look. "You're kidding, right? You're just, I don't know, a beacon of hope to these people. They're all feeling trapped, and you've been  _ **outside.**_ That's pretty much everything they've been hoping for. You represent their hope."

My cheeks darken. "Oh."

Amata watches me for a second, then laughs softly. "It never fails to blow my mind how much you underestimate your importance."

I scowl at her, sticking my tongue to let her know I'm kidding. "Shut up. I just don't think about it, okay?"

Her face breaks into a grin. "Okay."

We go quiet, our minds busy as we just sit there and enjoy the silence with each other. It's been a long time since I've been able to sit with someone and not worry about whether or not my pistol was close at hand. My mind relaxes, and soon I'm reminiscing about my childhood in the Vault.

"Do you remember the time we put shaving cream in Jonas' toothpaste?" I ask with a grin, the memory flashing in my mind.

Amata snorts and throws her hands up in surrender. "That was all you! All I did was laugh at the effect."

I mimic his reaction, making a sound not unlike a dying molerat and flailing around a little. We both double over laughing at the memory.

"Or the time we swapped the sugar with salt for the bake sale? Remember that one?" Amata giggles.

I crack a smile, massaging the ache in my side from laughing so hard. "That was especially devious."

Amata grins proudly. "My best moment!" she says dramatically, striking a pose.

"We were worse than Butch and his Tunnel Snakes at times, weren't we?"

Amata smiles, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe. But we didn't hurt anyone, so I think we were a good kind of worse."

I nod in agreement. "Either way, we had fun."

Amata hums her agreement, and we both go quiet, our minds going through all our fun times together.

I'm lost in memories of sleepovers and practicing with my old BB gun when Amata breaks me out of my thoughts.

"What's it really like up there? You told a few stories earlier, but you seemed to be picking and choosing pretty carefully."

I look up and meet Amata's gaze. Her eyes are sparkling with curiosity and I absolutely can't resist her. "Well..." I'm not sure where to begin. "It's huge. More dangerous than you might imagine, too. There's times it feels like everything is out to get you. So I suppose it's terrifying, in that regard." I purse my lips, images of my travels flashing before my eyes. "The world is just so... different from how we always heard. People will try to kill you if they want something of yours. Kill or be killed, I guess. Friends are hard to come by, but once you have them, they're pretty special." A half-smile flicks across my face as I remember introducing myself to Carol and Greta in Underworld.

Amata studies my smile for a moment, hesitating before asking her next question. "Have you... found anyone special?" It's a loaded question, and I can tell that she knows the underlying meaning in her words.

Bittercup, the eccentric blonde from Big Town, pops up in my head. I bite back a giggle as I remember her awkward flirting. "Nah, not really. There's only room for one girl in my heart, and no one out there really compares."

Amata quirks a brow at me and looks like she wants to question me further. My cheeks color as I realize what I've said, and she seems to decide to drop it.

After a moment, she decides to change the subject. "Half of the rebels want to open the Vault, and the other half wants to stay here, with it sealed up." She sighs and rests her chin on her knees. "I don't know what to tell them, or what to choose." Amata's quiet for a moment. "From what you've said, it sounds dangerous, but..."

"It  **is**  dangerous," I agree, chewing on my lower lip thoughtfully. "Though how much longer can the Vault sustain itself? If you don't run out of supplies, then how long will it take until everyone's sleeping with their cousin?"

Amata purses her lips and falls silent again.

"Y'know how it was supposed to be after we got out of the Vault, the world was lush and green and full of life again?" I ask quietly. "It's not. I haven't seen a single green thing, save the Super Mutants, and everything is dried up and dead. So if you're banking on that, don't."

Amata scowls, burying her face in her hands. "Ugh. I don't want this responsibility anymore." She peeks at me through her fingers. "Take me away from here?"

I grin. "You'd probably hate it out there. You love the Vault too much, and besides, I'd never willingly put you in danger."

She drops her hands and shoots me her secret weapon: an adorable little pout. She'd used it for years to get me to do what she wanted; we both knew I couldn't resist.

I cover my eyes with my hands, sticking my tongue out at her. Content in the knowledge that I've won against her pout, I grin and slouch back against the wall.

An instant later, Amata's fingers are skittering across my ribs, tickling me. I shriek and flail my arms around, trying to regain some control of the situation. I manage to curl around and tackle her, and we wrestle back and forth for a few minutes, giggling and panting. We finally just collapse on the floor in a breathless heap.

"My dad always used to tell me to be careful with you," I tell Amata, a smile on my face as my mind shoots back to years gone by. "He didn't want me breaking your neck."

Amata chuckles and punches me on the arm gently. "Little does he know, I can take you down!"

"Did," I correct without thinking, though a wave of sadness crashes over me a split second later.

A beat of confused silence passes. "Did what?"

"Did know. Not anymore. He's dead, 'Mata." My voice is surprisingly steady, though my throat seems to swell up.

Amata props herself up on her elbow and looks down at me, shock on her face. "What? Really?"

I shoot her a dry look. "Would I lie about that?" I roll away from her and sit up, staring down at the scratches in the metal floor.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs.

I rub a hand over my face, letting out a heavy sigh to help calm my emotions. I've cried enough, and I'd rather not fall apart in front of Amata. "It's okay," I say finally, turning and offering her a small smile.

She frowns, reaching out and resting her hand on my knee. "It's not either. You and your dad were so close..." There's a note of what I know is jealousy in her voice, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

"That doesn't stop death, 'Mata," I murmur, placing my hand on top of hers absently. "Either way, he died protecting me and I won't be able to live with myself if I don't go help accomplish his dream."

She makes a sympathetic noise in answer, apparently understanding that talking about it isn't what I want to be doing right now.

After a few moments of quiet, Amata starts subconsciously playing with my fingers while she tells me how the rebels got organized, confronted the Overseer, and escaped to the clinic. I listen with vague interest, mostly just listening to the sound of her voice and the feeling of her fingertips on my skin. Those two things combined are more soothing than any distraction.

As Amata's voice fills my ears, my mind wanders, acknowledging how much I've missed being here, and just being able to spend time with my best friend. A small, content smile works its way onto my face, and soon Amata goes quiet and we sit there and grin at each other, the air filled with the warm, fuzzy feeling of friendship.

"Thanks," I whisper, and she nods, then realizes she's still holding my hand and releases it gently. Her eyes drop to the floor between us, and I take the opportunity to take her in, overcome with a rush of affection for the girl in front of me.

"All right," Amata announces with a yawn, effectively breaking the silence a few moments later. "Bed time." She gets up and stretches, presumably heading to the bathroom. "You can have the bed," she calls over her shoulder.

My gentlemanly politeness makes me respond instantly. "No."

A sleepy frown crosses her face as she turns to look back at me. "What do you mean, 'no?' You've spent the past six months sleeping on the ground."

I shake my head at her stubbornness. "Yeah, so I'm better adapted to it. I'm not kicking you out of your bed, 'Mata."

She purses her lips and I try not to think about how adorable she looks. Instead, I allow myself a little surprise; I very rarely win arguments with Amata, and yet it seems like I've got this victory in the palm of my hand.

"Fine," she announces. "We'll share it."

My jaw hits the floor. I try to stammer out a response, but to no avail.

Amata grins, knowing she has me trapped.

"I could, uh, go sleep out there in the clinic with everyone else," I offer, feeling my cheeks heat up. The mere thought of spending a night curled up with Amata makes my stomach do back flips.

She shakes her head. "We've already got people doubled up out there. Though I'm pretty sure Susie Mack and Butch have had a thing for each other forever, so it was about time." Amata chuckles a little. "Besides, I'd rather have you in here. I, um..." Her eyes drop to the floor and her voice gets quieter. "I'm afraid I'll wake up and you won't be here and that this will all have been a dream."

The flash of concern that passes over her face at the thought wins me over, though I'm not sure I would have won out anyway.

She glances at me again before turning and heading off to the bathroom, apparently satisfied that I won't disappear.

I sink down onto the edge of the bed and sigh, staring at the floor. I have no idea how I'm going to survive the night.

Amata returns and we take turns changing into pajamas, giving each other privacy to do so. I'm going through last minute plans to get out of having to share the bed with her when she slides in and waves me over.

"Stop thinking and get over here," she orders with a grin, patting the bed beside her. "I don't bite."

Everything in me is screaming no as I meekly obey her and slip under the blanket beside her. I do my best to curl up on my side to give her some room, and I end up nearly falling off onto the floor.

Amata sighs, snuggling a little deeper into the cot. "Good night," she whispers.

"Night," I answer.

Soon, she's slipped off to sleep, and I relax enough to roll over onto my back, my arm brushing against Amata's back. It's slightly less awkward with Amata asleep, because I know she won't be aware of me accidentally touching her. I try to focus on anything other than her and the sound of her breathing next to me, wanting to just fall asleep and be able to ignore the situation.

Then Amata rolls over and snuggles up against me, resting her head against my shoulder. I freeze, unsure of what to do. She snores softly and I can't help but smile. While my brain is still panicking, the rest of me is calming down. After a moment passes and I'm sure she's settled, I reach up and stroke her hair softly, closing my eyes.

I'm amazed at how easy it feels to just lay there with her curled up into me. I can almost imagine falling asleep every evening and waking up every morning just like this, spending our days together and growing old together. The thought strikes me as strange and I frown into the darkness. It sounds oddly familiar to every young girl's dream of falling in love with the perfect guy. That makes me think of my own wordplay earlier, and I wonder if I actually love Amata or if this is just a crush gone wild.

We lay there for a while, cuddled up together as she snores and I ponder. After a while, she rolls over and away from me, apparently trying to find a more comfortable position. I instantly miss the contact, but I hesitate before I do anything. When I can stand it no longer, I roll over, too, and drape my arm around Amata's waist.

She sighs contentedly and I smile again. It doesn't even make sense to me, but just that action seems to solidify it in my mind. This is far more than a crush. I'm definitely in love with my best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Amata presents me with a fresh, clean 101 jumpsuit. The mere idea of wearing something clean is what sends me to change into it, and for a few seconds after I zip it up, it feels wonderful. Then I start noticing all the spots that it's too tight or too loose on me.

Amata grins when she sees me. "Feel more at home?" she asks, studying the outfit a little too long.

I shrug a little, wondering if it's the weight I've lost, or that I've gotten so used to wastelander clothes that makes the jumpsuit feel foreign to me. After a moment, I just decide to go with it, hoping it'll help boost the rebels' morale.

"What's the plan for today?" I ask, fidgeting a little.

Amata shrugs, looking up at me and smiling. "There hasn't really been 'a plan' around here except for surviving, so that's basically it. I guess you can do whatever you want. It's nice to have you around, and I know you're giving all of the rebels here some hope." Her eyes flick to the floor, then back up to me. "We're all...  **I'm** glad to have you here, safe and alive."

I smile at her. "I'm glad to be here, safe and alive. Hanging out dead in some raider camp didn't sound like the best plan, so I'd pick this any day."

Amata's face darkens for a second, and then she looks as though she's not sure how to respond. She looks up and sees my silly smile and relaxes, letting a little grin grow on her face. "Good."

She heads off to the bathroom, and I'm left standing in the office with nothing to do. I peek out into the clinic, watching the rebels move around and kill time waiting for something to happen. I'm not completely ready to go out and talk to the rebels again, so I'm considering just staying and hanging out in the little office all day.

I wonder how exactly I used to manage to keep myself occupied in the Vault, aside from the job I'd had helping the maintenance crew. Then a memory hits me, and I have to grin at myself; I can almost feel the light bulb in my head turn on.

I grab my pistol and my pack, making sure to jot a note to Amata to let her know where I've gone. With all of my ducks in a row, I sling my pack over my shoulder and set off through the Vault.

After sneaking past a handful of security officers and silently dispatching a few radroaches, I make it down to the reactor level unnoticed. Even the Overseer doesn't know where I am; Butch had proudly told me how his Tunnel Snakes had vandalized all the cameras they could find. In fact, I wonder if the Overseer even knows I've entered the Vault.

Mild irritation is forming in the back of my mind and I sigh, pushing thoughts of the Overseer out of my mind.

As I glance around the small room outside of the reactor, I can almost see Jonas and my dad presenting me with my BB gun years ago. A wistful lump forms in my throat and I wish I could go back to that time, just for a few minutes.

Before I can dissolve into a blob of emotion, I walk over to the storage room door and try to open it. I'm more than a little surprised when it opens without complaint; with the lock-down the Vault seems to be in, hardly anything seems to be normal.

As the door swings open, the dim emergency lighting inside kicks on, buzzing quietly. The sound is calming and instantly familiar. At the far end of the room, I can see the spindly silhouettes of my shooting range's targets.

I feel almost as if a magnet is pulling me toward the range, and I sink to the ground at the overturned locker that made up my firing point.

Memories bombard me again, toying with my sense of reality. After a few moments of reliving some of my most cherished memories, I shake my head and slide my pack to the ground. My hand goes inside, fingers searching for and grasping their target. I pull out my old BB gun, weighing it in my hands. There has been no reason for me to keep it with me for all this time; it's just dead weight since it has no effect against the creatures of the wasteland. I just hadn't been able to justify getting rid of it.

The toy feels so much smaller and flimsier in my hands than I'm used to, especially after handling Fat Mans and shotguns. Doing my best to ignore the difference, I hold the gun gently, adding a few BBs to the clip and loading it up. When I pull it up and look down the barrel to aim, my muscles seem to remember exactly how to shoot the weapon in my hand.

My first shot is a little wide and I adapt my aim, hitting the next target dead on. It spins around with a satisfying squeak, one that still makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

I unload clip after clip at the targets, my mind focused on the range and the memories of all my time down here.

Part of me wonders briefly if my dad had given me this because he knew one day we would both end up leaving the Vault. Knowing him, he wouldn't have wanted me to be unprepared, so he probably did all he could to ready me, just in case.

Three pellets before I'm out of ammo, my gun makes a noise it's not supposed to and a spring flies off of it. A few small metal pieces follow it and I swear, flinging a hand out to try and catch the parts. Naturally, I miss all of them and hear them scatter across the floor.

"No, no, no, no, no," I whimper, laying the toy down and crawling around, looking for all the pieces I've just lost. Even when I turn on my Pipboy light, I can't find them. Knowing I have nothing in my bag that can repair my gun, I just end up sitting by my things and hugging my knees to my chest, trying not to cry.

I know it was just a toy, but it's my last real connection to my dad and my childhood. That BB gun, working or broken, has more meaning to me than most of the people here in the Vault.

I mope for a good long while, finally deciding that I'm being ridiculous and need to suck it up. The tin of BBs catches my eye and I pick it up, rolling one of the pellets between my fingers.

On impulse, I toss it at one of the targets and completely miss. The same happens when I try with the other two pellets. I can't help but grin at my lousy aim, reminded of my first and only attempt at using a grenade. I'd missed my target, an angry Super Mutant, overshot, and ended up causing a building to nearly collapse on top of us.

The memory fades, and I'm left alone with the buzzing of the lights.

I hesitate for a moment, my eyes resting on my BB gun. I guess I can be glad that I didn't break it out in the wasteland, but it's broken either way. Now it really is dead weight. I end up deciding that I'll mount it on a wall in my house in Megaton; it'll look nice up there.

The thought of Megaton puts a new problem in my head. As usual, I'm not planning too far ahead, only really knowing that I have to deal with the Overseer and that I'm going to help get Project Purity up and running. But Amata's face appears in my mind, seemingly warring with the images of Megaton and the wasteland. Suddenly, I'm very confused and torn.

After all the time I've spent out in the wasteland, I feel like it's become a part of me. It's ingrained so deeply in who I've had to grow up into that I really don't think I could ever let it go. The life I had here in the Vault... it's not something I think I could go back to. Even with all the horrors in the wastes, there's something about it that makes me feel free.

_But Amata..._

I know better than to think Amata will leave the Vault. She's been taught the ways to lead it and the undying loyalty since she was a toddler. Even now, she isn't rebelling to try to leave, just to get the Vault back in order.

I also know that I can't let everyone outside of the Vault down. I'm too invested in Project Purity to just disappear on them. A disgruntled sigh escapes me. Now I can understand how my dad felt and why he left in the first place. Damn that Enclave group. If they hadn't gotten involved and my dad hadn't died, then maybe I wouldn't be so torn.

Part of me never wants to leave Amata again, since I never expected to have another chance to be around her in the first place. Being able to be around her and knowing that I love her, even if she doesn't feel the same, is unlike anything I've ever known; why would I want to let that go? But another part of me has tasted the outside-the fresh air, the freedom-and staying cooped up in the Vault would probably drive me past the point of insanity. I just have to wonder if there's a way for me to have the best of both worlds.

A glance at my Pipboy's clock shows me that I've been gone from the clinic for a few hours longer than I'd meant to. I grab all my things, stash them in my pack, and begin my sneaky trek back.

When I arrive back in the clinic, no one seems to notice that I've been gone, which I'm grateful for as I duck back to the office. I don't particularly want to talk to anyone; my mind is busy whirring and wondering what to do.

I drop my pack to the floor in the office, turning around to find Amata focused on something at the desk. She plays with her earlobe as she works through whatever she's thinking about, glancing up at the intruding noise that I've made. Her face softens and a smile breaks out when she sees me.

"Hey. Where've you been? I mean, I saw your note, but..."

I shrug. "Went down to the shooting range and did some thinking," I answer.

The dark, pensive tone in my voice makes Amata's brow furrow. She gets up and moves toward me, her eyes flashing with concern. "You okay?"

My moment of hesitation before answering seems to be enough to worry her. She reaches for my hand, grasping my fingers gently in her own.

"What's wrong?" she presses, her voice soft and caring.

I'm undecided about whether to actually talk to her about what's on my mind; I'm scared of the answers that may arise from a conversation about going back out into the wastes. "My BB gun broke," I answer finally, using that as cover.

"Aww, really?" Amata looks upset for me. "I'm sorry. It's so old, I'm surprised it lasted so long, especially with how much use you put it through." She offers me a sympathetic hand squeeze, stepping in to hug me.

I wrap my arms around her, my mind still whirring. Whenever everything gets resolved and I can go back out into the wasteland, I'll have to decide what to do or say. For now, I just ignore it, knowing it's not really the time to worry about it.

After a long moment, Amata breaks away from me, giving me a look I can't quite decipher. After a second, she shakes herself and steps away, heading out of the office. "I'm gonna go help with dinner rations."

"I'll be there in a second," I reply automatically, listening to her footsteps leaving the room. When she's gone I sink down on the cot and bury my face in my hands for a few minutes. I try to just breathe, fending off the wild thoughts I don't want to have to deal with.

Finally, I get up, tugging at the still-uncomfortable jumpsuit and following Amata out to help with the food.

Everyone gets their share, myself included, though I don't feel much like eating.

While Amata mingles, I eat and make an excuse to head to the nearest bathroom.

Splashing some cool water on my face does nothing to alleviate the tangled emotions in my gut. I stare at myself in the mirror, watching water run down and drip off my face, searching for some sort of answers in my eyes.

Instead, I see a stranger in a Vault suit staring back at me. I'm reminded of how foreign the suit is as I see it in my reflection, struck by how out of place I suddenly feel. I've grown so used to seeing myself in some form of armor or pre-war clothes that anything from the Vault seems... wrong.

I can't stand being in this damn jumpsuit any longer, and I head back to the clinic, walk straight into the office and start digging through my bag. I find a set of wastelander clothes someone had given me in Megaton and quickly shed the Vault suit. I've just hopped into the pants when a gasp comes from behind me.

I panic and wonder for a split second if I'd remembered to close the door, knowing I had. I turn and see Amata there, looking a little horrified. My cheeks color and I fumble for the shirt, hoping to pull it on before I die of embarrassment. Before I can find it, she comes forward and reaches out for my shoulder. Her fingers land on a large, angry scar, tracing it gently. The wound was bad enough that I can barely feel her touch through the knot of scar tissue, but the coolness of her hand still seems to seep through.

Amata's eyes flick up to my face, silently asking me what happened.

"Someone started shooting at me, and I didn't get outta the way fast enough," I murmur, trying to crack a smile to ease her mind.

The emotion in her eyes doesn't fade despite my efforts, but her gaze drops back to the scar. Her fingers trail down my arm, finding old gashes from ghoul attacks. I don't know how to explain those to her, at least not without completely traumatizing her. Thankfully, she moves on and searches the rest of me for any old wounds.

When she's finished, I grab the shirt and pull it over my head, only to find myself wrapped up in a hug the moment it's on.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I had to get you out of the Vault. My dad would have had you killed, and I wouldn't have been able to live with that."

I notice that she's shaking, and cradle her against me. "It's okay," I try to tell her, but she shakes her head and tightens her arms around me.

"Either way, you're risking your life. I sent you out there, and who knows how many times you've nearly died. This, all these scars, everything... it's all my fault."

It's my turn to shake my head. "No, it's not. Don't even think that, 'Mata. My dad started this whole thing by leaving." I rest my head against hers, trying to offer her as much comfort as I can. "Maybe even by him coming to the Vault with me as a baby. None of this would have happened if he hadn't brought me here."

"I'm not sure I could live without you," she whispers, almost as if she doesn't want me to hear.

For a few moments, I'm not sure how to respond. "You made it for a good six months," I remind her.

"Yeah, and I spent every one of those days thinking about you, hoping that you were okay, and praying I'd get another chance to see you," she retorts, pushing me away and going to the other side of the room. I see her dry her cheeks and my heart drops to the floor. I'd spent almost all of my life protecting Amata from as much as I could, and now  **I**  was the one that was making her cry.

I open my mouth, but I can't find the words to express what I want to say. "I'm sorry," I tell her softly, settling for those overused, nearly cliché words.

Amata forces out a bitter laugh, still not turning to face me. "Why?"

I shift my weight anxiously, hating the tension and charged emotions radiating from her. "I just... I never want to make you worry, or hurt you, or anything. I care about you more than you know, and knowing that I upset you kills me." I swallow, nearly choking due to my suddenly-dry mouth.

She goes quiet, and a painful silence stretches out between us. The absence of sound reminds me vaguely of my first night out in the wasteland, and I cringe inwardly as the memories of the sheer terror flood over me.

"Can I ask you something?" she murmurs after a moment. She doesn't wait for a response. "The other day, you said something about there only being room for one girl in your heart. Are you... I mean, does that mean... you like girls?"

I've already been feeling a little shaky, and her question only amplifies it. "Yeah," I manage.

She turns around slowly, watching me quietly. After a moment, she crosses the room and stops right in front of me, looking up into my eyes. "Me too," she whispers.

My heart threatens to pound its way out of my chest. It takes me a few moments, but then I realize that she's waiting for me to do something. Deep inside, I know that I desperately want to kiss her, but I can't quite make myself move. A voice in the back of my head tells me how ironic it is that the Overseer's daughter, one who's always been a leader, is waiting for someone else to take the first step.

Something in Amata's eyes changes as we stand there, and her face begins to fall. I know instantly that disappointment at my hesitation is the driving force behind her expression crumbling, and I say the first thing that comes to mind to stop it.

"It's you."

That stops her, and a look of confusion crosses her face.

"The girl," I clarify, my body threatening to completely shut down on me. I've never been so close to passing out in all my life. Something in the back of my mind tells me how silly it is that I can face a deathclaw without batting an eye, but admitting this to Amata has me terrified. "The one no else can compare to."

Amata looks a little surprised, then a blush spreads across her cheeks. She drops her gaze down to my collar, biting her lower lip nervously. "I didn't know," she says after a moment. "I mean, I dreamed about it, but I didn't think we'd ever... you'd ever tell me that." Amata chances a glance up at me, her eyes meeting mine again. "I just... I don't know..." A sigh escapes her. "I really, really like you. As more than my best friend."

My heart is still pounding in my chest, but this time I'm pretty sure it's doing a happy dance.

I don't know who moves first or what really happens, but all of a sudden, my entire body is tingling and I feel like I'm floating. The only thing I'm aware of is that Amata and I are kissing. We break apart slowly, still lingering close to each other. Amata looks up at me through half-lidded eyes, a dazed expression on her face.

"Wow," I manage, my voice sounding surprisingly breathless.

Amata nods, catching my lips in another gentle kiss.

We're both timid and unsure at first, but the more kisses we share, the more bold we become. At one point, I feel Amata's fingertips sneaking under the bottom of my shirt and brushing my stomach. I brush my tongue against her lower lip, pleasantly surprised at the sensation and the taste of her lips.

My arms end up curled around Amata, while hers are around my neck, one of her hands tangled lazily in my hair. She rests her head on my shoulder and catches her breath, making no move to leave my arms.

"We should stop," Amata murmurs.

"Don't wanna," I answer, hugging her closer, my body nearly on fire from all of the new, intimate contact with the girl I love.

"Me neither," she admits against my neck.

We stand there, wrapped up in each other for a few minutes. Finally, Amata pulls herself out of my arms and I'm instantly struck by how empty and cold I feel without her. She seems to feel the same way, because she offers her hand to me. I grab it and intertwine our fingers, gaining a bit of comfort from the contact.

A grin crosses Amata's face and she quirks an eyebrow at me. "I bet you won't object to sleeping with me tonight, will you?"

I feel my cheeks heat up and I can't find it in me to do anything but stare at her. I know Amata can be bold, but this is pushing her limits.

Her face goes beet-red as my reaction clues her in to what she said. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it in horror as she tries to squeak out a correction.

She's still trying to compose herself when I work up the courage to reply. "Absolutely not. I'd fight Grognak the Barbarian to the death to be able to sleep with you, 'Mata." I don't know how, but I manage to purr out her name.

If it's possible, Amata blushes even darker and buries her face in her hands. I double over laughing at the sight, too distracted by the humor to be embarrassed by what I've just said.

She peeks at me between her fingers and huffs, though I hear her start giggling, too. We laugh for a while longer, eventually flopping on the floor and giggling whenever the urge strikes us. Although the wordplay was accidental, it's put some rather... excitingimagery in my head. My laughter subsides into an emotionally (and physically) charged silence.

"So, uh... what if I wasn't kidding?" The question slides out of my mouth before I can filter and stop it.

Amata blushes again, though not as deeply, and her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip. Her gaze flits between me and the floor for a few moments. "Are you, um... You don't think it's a little soon?"

I hesitate, realizing how I must sound and suddenly wanting to go find a cliff and fling myself off of it. "Shit, sorry. Forget I brought it up?" I bury my face in my hands, feeling more than a little sickened at myself.

"Sorry," Amata mumbles after a moment. "It's just... We only just found out about... well, everything. That feels too fast."

"I know." I sigh, looking up to find her staring at the floor. "Outside in the Wasteland, there's no waiting; you do what you want, or risk getting killed and not having the chance to try again. I forgot that it's different in here. I'm sorry."

We sit there on the floor, an awkward silence between us. Finally, I can't stand it and get up to go out into the clinic. Amata looks up at me questioningly, worry flashing in her eyes.

I offer her a smile that I hope will ease her mind. "I'm not mad, and I'm not leaving, don't worry."

She doesn't look totally convinced, but doesn't try to stop me. I wander out of the clinic into the hall, noticing that Butch is asleep at his guard post. I roll my eyes and go over and kick his foot. He jumps awake, waving around his little toothpick of a pocketknife.

"Who goes there? Ain't no way you're gettin' past a Tunnel Snake, man!" Butch crows before he's even fully awake.

"Shut up and go get some sleep, DeLoria," I tell him, half a smile on my face. As annoying as he's always been, it's still nice to have people that don't shoot first and talk later around.

He waves me away, but ends up hauling himself to bed a few minutes later.

I settle into Butch's guard spot, pulling out my pistol and playing with it absently. I feel like such an idiot for even letting those words slip out of my mouth. I curl my hand into a fist and lightly hit myself in the forehead, chanting out the mantra of "stupid, stupid, stupid" every time my hand and head collide. Naturally, that doesn't make me feel better, and I stare off down the dark hallway, imagining a million other ways I could have handled the situation.

Time seems to slip by unnoticed, and soon I'm stifling yawns, leaning against the barricade and pinching myself to stay awake.

"Hey," Amata murmurs from behind me, startling me awake.

I panic, not sure of what to do, or if I'm even comfortable looking at her. "Hi," I answer finally, playing with the safety on my pistol nervously.

We're both quiet for a few minutes, and then Amata sighs.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't, I mean..." She lets out another upset sigh. "Did I just ruin everything?"

"Of course not!" I reply instantly. "Why in the world would you say that? No, 'Mata, if anyone did anything to ruin things, it was me." I turn and face her meekly, holstering my pistol. "I should be the one apologizing."

She studies me for a minute, relief visibly sweeping over her a second later. "Since I know you'll argue until this time tomorrow if I press it, let's just agree that we both were partly wrong?" She offers me a shy smile.

I return it and nod. We reach for each other's hand and intertwine our fingers before we wrap each other up in a hug.

"Bed time," I murmur, my drowsiness drowning me now that the major stress of the night has been resolved.

Amata nods, releasing me and heading back into the clinic. She goes and gets Andy, the destructive Mr. Handy, and puts him on guard duty before leading me into the office.

I go over to my bag and pull out a fold-out pad that passes as a mattress and spread it out on the floor as Amata curls up in the cot. After yanking my boots off and retrieving a blanket from a footlocker along the wall, I settle down to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Amata and I spend a very uneventful day avoiding each other's gazes bashfully, instead passing the time talking to the rebels. I learn mostly things I already knew about the rebellion, though I hear someone talking about Mr. Brotch. He had never struck me as too taken by the Overseer, and I wonder why he isn't hiding out with the rebels.

"Hey Susie," I ask, catching her arm as she walks past me, "what happened to Mr. Brotch?"

She looks at me strangely as though I'm both a freak of nature and asking to most stupid question known to man. "He's in the jail," she answers, her eyes going past me to where Butch is standing guard.

I frown concernedly and excuse myself, slipping into the office and grabbing a Stealth boy from my bag. Mr. Brotch had always been a friend of my dad's, and he helped me cheat on the G.O.A.T., so freeing him feels like the least I could do.

I pause thoughtfully before sliding my boots off, knowing that sneaking around will be much easier in bare feet. Boots tucked safely out of the way, I hook the Stealth boy on my wrist and activate it. A glance down at my now-invisible hand assures me that it's working and I go ahead and walk out of the office.

Seeing Amata standing and glancing around gives me a strong urge to go mess with her, play with her hair, or something just to freak her out. I can't resist and sneak over behind her, gently blowing on the back of her neck. Amata lets out a little gasp and turns around, looking adorably confused.

I grin in spite of myself, leaning over and kissing her cheek lightly. "Be back soon," I whisper in her ear, watching as even more confusion floods her face, then a blush darkens her cheeks as a secret, shy smile appears on her face.

I smile again and sneak away, heading off to the jail.

Upon arriving and glancing in the window, I can see Mr. Brotch in his cell, with a security officer in the room between me and my old teacher.

The officer presents a problem for me. I have to either figure out a way to distract him long enough to break into Mr. Brotch's cell or end up in a fight, probably killing him. I'd prefer the former, but I'm not sure how to pull it off. The best course of action will be the wait it out.  _Maybe the guard will need a bathroom break soon._

A few minutes into that plan, a flaw occurs to me. The battery in the Stealth boy will run out if I wait too long. I make a face, fingering my gun regretfully. The only thing I'll have to worry about if I end up killing this guard is Amata and the rebels' reactions.

It crosses my mind how convenient it would be for the guard to fall asleep or something, and I roll my eyes. I'm not that lucky. I'd have to drug him to knock him out.

A second later I want to smack myself. Drugging the guard is the perfect plan. I scurry back to the clinic, turning off my Stealth boy to conserve the battery. I head straight into the office, going for my father's old supply locker. Unused braces and wraps fall out on top of me, and I swear, rummaging around in the mess, praying that there will still be some sedative syringes.

"Ha!" I crow when I see the wonderful little shots, grabbing a few and running back out.

Amata gives me a strange look as I dart through the clinic, smiling and shaking her head when I grin and wave.

I pause for breath at the atrium stairs, reactivating my Stealth boy and making my way back to security. It makes me a little uneasy being so close to the Overseer's office, but I ignore that as best I can, getting a syringe ready. I'll have to inject the medicine quickly, especially since I've got to open the door. There's no way I won't catch the guard's attention with that.

I take a deep breath before moving toward the door switch. With a quick tap of my hand, it hisses open.

"What the..." The guard's chair creaks as he gets to his feet and comes toward the door. He steps out into the hallway, looking around. I seize my opportunity and jab the needle into his thigh, injecting all the medicine as quickly as I can and withdrawing the needle before he can lurch away and snap it off in his leg.

He lets out a little yelp of pain and takes a wild swing in my direction, his baton connecting with my shoulder. I bite back a yelp of my own and watch as he passes out and drops like a rock.

I grab the syringe between my teeth, hooking my arms underneath the guard's and dragging him back into the security office. It takes almost more strength than I have to get the guard off the floor and onto his cot. Once I'm sure he's safely on the bed, I take the syringe out of my mouth and toss it into the nearby trashcan.

A glance at the cell window reveals a confused, somewhat alarmed-looking Mr. Brotch. I grin at him before remembering to turn off my Stealth boy.

When I come into view, Mr. Brotch looks stunned, then cracks a smile.

I lean over the guard and rummage through his pockets, looking for a key of some sort to open the cell. I find a keycard in a pocket inside his armored vest, cheering silently and using it to unlock Mr. Brotch's cell.

"I don't know how you managed it, kid," he says as he walks out of the small room, "but thanks."

I grin. "Anything for my favorite teacher. I guess you didn't manage to escape with the rest of the rebels?"

He flashes me a dry smile. "Figured out I wasn't a loyal Overseer supporter, huh? Yeah, they all made it off to your dad's old clinic. I wasn't so fast."

I'm all ready to head back to the clinic with my teacher in tow when I realize that I have no good way to sneak him back. I only had the one Stealth boy and I'm definitely dead meat if I get spotted.

Mr. Brotch apparently has a plan, as he's gone over to the supply lockers and is pulling out a security uniform. After donning the armored vest and a helmet, he looks over at me. "Shall we?"

I nod, my cheeks heating with an embarrassed blush.  _Why didn't I think of that?_  I try to console myself by reminding myself that I hadn't planned this in advance. Shaking the thought out of my head, I activate my Stealth boy.

Soon, we're heading away from the security office, and I'm confident that the pseudo-security uniform will keep people from asking questions.

As we near the clinic, I catch Mr. Brotch's arm. "They might attack you if they think you're a guard."

He nods. "Way ahead of you, kiddo." He begins shedding his disguise as we near the first few overturned lockers that signal the beginning of Butch's barricade. My teacher stops and stashes the costume in one of the lockers, grinning in what he assumes is my direction.

Just then, the battery in my Stealth boy runs dry and I flicker into view. A sort of giddy excitement beings to flare up in the pit of my stomach. I'd managed to rescue him without making a near-fatal mistake, a rare feat for me.

We walk into the clinic together, and I announce our presence. "Look who I found, guys!"

There's a confused, surprised silence as all eyes turn on us, and then a few whoops. I'm surprised by that; I was one of the only students in a long time to actually like Mr. Brotch. Everyone else resented him for one reason or another. I guess having an adult on their side balance things out.

People start asking him questions, and I tune the conversation out, searching the room for Amata. I find her standing back near the office, smiling proudly at me. I return the smile, stepping through the throng of people and going over to her.

"Nice job," she tells me. "We'd kind of forgotten about him in the thick of things."

I nod, leaning against the wall beside her. "I wondered. Hopefully having him around will help boost morale or something."

She nods back, glancing at the crowd and chewing on her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she tugs at my arm. "C'mon."

I follow her into the office, my mind heading straight for the gutter when she closes the door behind us. She sees the look on my face and gives me a dry look.

"Keep it in your pants," she mutters, stepping over to me and wrapping her arms around me. "I missed you."

I smirk while returning her hug. "I was gone for all of twenty minutes, 'Mata."

She pushes me away playfully and swats at me. "Yeah, well. I missed you anyway. I was craving a hug."

I strike a dramatic pose. "And yet you push me away! I just can't believe it!" I stagger backward and collapse on the cot. It creaks dangerously under the sudden burden of my weight, and I thank my lucky stars when it holds.

Amata groans, coming and sitting on the edge of the cot beside me. "You're so corny."

"You've never complained," I retort, grinning at her as I stretch out.

She grins, caught, and lays down beside me, cuddling into my side.

We're both quiet, relaxing and settling into an innocent embrace.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" she asks quietly, snuggling a little closer to me.

"Of course." I wrap my arm around her a little tighter, smiling to myself. I never mind her questions, and her last important one got us here, so I'm definitely not going to refuse it.

"Did you have to fight anyone to get Mr. Brotch free?" she asks after a moment.

"Nah, not really. There was a guard, but I just shot a sedative in his leg and he passed out. That was it." I smile, pleased with the peaceful solution.

"Good." She seems to hesitate, playing a few loose threads on my shirt absently. "So, um... a while back... When you said 'kill or be killed'... does that... I mean..."

I purse my lips, instantly feeling slightly trapped by the question. "Yeah," I answer finally. "I've killed some people."

Amata's silent, and when she finds her voice again a moment later, it's lost some of its warmth. "How many?"

I cringe. "I... don't know." I can almost feel her crushing disappointment in me pressing down on my chest.

"Oh," is all she says.

A sigh escapes me. "Look, 'Mata, I had to. It was that or get shot in the face as I tried to reason with people. The... the way of life, the culture, that's the way it is up there. You have to defend yourself to the death if you want to make it."

She shifts in my arms, echoing my sigh. "I know. I just... I can't imagine killing someone."

"I only do what's absolutely necessary," I assure her. "It's not like I'm going around saying 'oh, dude, I like your hat' and shooting him for it."

I'm rewarded with a little half-chuckle before she sighs again.

"Let's just... forget about it," she murmurs, sounding tired.

"All right." As I let her snuggle back against me hesitantly, I can't help but wonder if forgetting about it will just be an impossible dream. I can't shake the feeling that the conversation will come back to haunt me.

* * *

The rest of the day passes relatively quickly, with Mr. Brotch providing the main entertainment with stories from the "other side."

Whatever tension there had been between Amata and me after our discussion during our cuddle session seems to have dissipated and I keep catching her staring at me. We're both constantly fighting blushes all evening.

Finally, dinner time rolls around, and soon enough, it's bed time. Amata and I still aren't super talkative, but we meander to the office when it's time for bed, getting ready and sliding into our separate beds.

"Good night," I murmur from my pad on the floor, listening to the quiet sounds of the Vault and Amata's breathing.

A few seconds of silence pass, and I hear Amata shift and the cot creak as she sits up. "Hey," she calls softly.

"What?" I roll over to face her and prop myself up on my elbow, listening for her response.

"I'm ready," she answers quietly.

My heart stops and then starts up again, quickening its pace. "Ready?" I echo, wondering if I'm just jumping to conclusions.

I hear her slip out of her bed and move across the floor toward me. Her fingertips ghost across the blanket, searching for me. She finds my face a moment later, cradling it between her hands. Then she kisses me softly.

"Yes, ready," she repeats, resting her forehead against mine. "I thought about what you said last night, about taking things when you can, and how stupid I felt to push away the chance to get what I've been dreaming about for years. I thought I'd lost my chance when you left, and now you're here and I just..." She kisses me again, her hands leaving my face and fisting in my shirt. "I'm ready."

I grin in spite of myself, my insides buzzing nervously. "Quite the speech there, 'Mata," I mumble, sitting up a little better and curling an arm around her. She buries her face in my shoulder, and I can imagine her blush. "Just one thing, though."

She pulls away, and I can feel her looking at me in the dark, waiting for me to say something.

"Don't do this out of guilt or because of me wanting it." I swallow, having thought through this last night as much as Amata must have thought about her little monologue. "I only want this if you want it. I'm not going to force you into something you're not comfortable with because I'm not satisfied."

Amata seems to hesitate for a moment, thinking over her reasoning. A second later, she pulls herself close to me and finds my lips with hers once again. "I want it," she murmurs decisively. "Just... now, before I lose my nerve."

My insides clench nervously, but I can't stop a smile from forming on my face. I hold her to me gently, my hands slipping under her pajama top and brushing against her stomach. She tenses and I stop my hands from going farther.

"Sorry," she says instantly. "I'm just nervous. I've, um... I've never done this before."

I blush in the darkness; I hadn't even thought about being her first. "Me neither," I admit, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We can stop if you'd like."

"No way," she retorts. "Believe me, I feel like I'm on fire down, um... down there. It's just nerve-racking."

A grin breaks out on my face at her awkward phrasing; I feel the same way. "Do you trust me?" I ask softly.

"Of course," comes her whispered reply.

"I've never done anything like this, either. I'm not sure what to do, but I promise I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable or hurt you. I'm going to take care of you and love you, just like I always have. Can you trust me on that?"

She relaxes a little in my arms and answers me with a kiss and a barely audible "yes."

We fall back onto my bed, hands wandering. Soon our actions are conveying our feelings better than words ever could. Little gasps and stifled moans fill the air, and when we reach our highs, we gasp out each other's names.

Afterward, we curl up in each other's arms, sated and happy.

"I love you," she whispers, making my heart soar.

I kiss her warmly. "I love you, too."

After a while, I hear her snoring softly, and a smile grows on my face. I can't believe what's just happened is real, though I know it is. I press a gentle kiss to her forehead, pulling her a little closer to me. I drift off to sleep soon after, feeling like the luckiest girl in the wasteland.


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning," Amata murmurs as I stir, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I smile sleepily, winding my arms around her and snuggling my face into her shoulder. "Hi."

We don't bother getting up, too comfortable wrapped up in each other's arms.

Now that I'm awake, my mind starts wandering. I'm so content where I am that I consider never getting up. The thought of staying here seems nice, but then I think about all the people outside the Vault I'd be letting down. All the doubts from when I was thinking about this at the shooting range come back to me, wiping the content smile from my face.

I know I still have a choice to make: stay in the Vault with Amata or leave and return to the wasteland. The decision was hard enough before; it feels a billion times harder now that I know Amata returns my feelings.

Asking her to come with me is asking her to step out into mortal danger every day. I'm not sure I would ever be able to forgive myself for putting her in danger, much less if she ended up hurt.

Staying in the Vault, on the other hand, would always leave me wondering "what if" about the wasteland. I'd miss the freedom to be able to get up and travel out into solitude, and the fresh smell of the air.

The mere thought of actually leaving Amata again, regardless of whether I leave the Vault or not, almost makes me physically hurt. Almost without realizing it, I snuggle against her more securely. I'm sudden more afraid of losing Amata than I've ever been in my life.

"What are you thinking about?" she murmurs, tracing lazy patterns on my skin absently.

"You," I answer, honestly this time. I decide to, once again, neglect to mention what exactly I'm thinking about, because I'm just too scared of what could happen.

She smiles and kisses me gently. "You sap."

I grin back at her, shifting and resting my head on her shoulder. "You like me that way."

"Hmm," Amata hums thoughtfully. "Nope. I love you that way."

My smile grows and I let the banter push the distressing thoughts out of my mind. "And you call  **me** sappy."

We share another kiss or two, and I let my mind relax again, just enjoying being with her once more.

After a while, Amata sits up and stretches, letting out a little groan. "So, what's the plan for today? Going to rescue someone else?" There's a teasing glint in her eyes and I smirk, swatting at her playfully.

"Nah. I haven't thought about it yet, actually." I snuggle against her, using her thigh as a pillow.

She laughs, running her fingers through my hair. "We could just stay in here and be lazy all day."

I let out a happy little sigh. "That'd be nice."

"... until Butch got curious and decided to come in here and bug us," Amata adds thoughtfully.

I snort and we giggle together for a few minutes.

"I love you," she sighs happily, her smile widening. "You know how nice it is to be able to say that?"

I grin, nodding a little. "I think I have an idea."

Amata laughs, kissing me gently. "I hate to interrupt the moment, but I have to pee."

I shift and let her get up, grinning as she starts for the door. "Hold up, beautiful. You  **might**  want to put some clothes on before the entire clinic gets an eyeful."

She turns bright red and quickly turns to get dressed. I snuggle back under the covers and snicker at her, yelping when she tosses a pillow at me on her way out of the office.

Without Amata curled up next to me, the room seems awfully cold, so I get up and begin to get dressed, too. By the time she gets back, I'm up and around, half dressed and trying to decide between wearing some armor or the wasteland clothes I'd worn the day before.

"I guess our lazy day is out of the question, then?" she teases.

"One more day of doing practically nothing is going to kill me, 'Mata. I have to do something before I lose my mind." Something has taken hold of me all of a sudden and I instinctively know that today is the day I need to go talk to the Overseer. The conflict can't last forever simply because I want to lay around snuggled up with Amata.

"Something?" she echoes, sounding confused.

I nod, turning and tossing her a distracted smile. "Yeah. I want to get things sorted out with your dad."

"Oh." Her voice is tinged with concern this time.

I hesitate, grabbing for my armor instead of the wasteland clothes. I'm worried that the Overseer will have adopted a "shoot on sight" policy and I'd really rather not die today.

Amata watches me strap the armor on, biting her lower lip nervously. Once I've finished, she comes over to me and wraps her arms around my neck, looking into my eyes. We're both quiet for a moment, and finally she sighs. "Be careful. I don't want either of you to get hurt."

I smirk, shrugging my shoulders a little to draw her attention to the armor sitting comfortably on them. "S'why I've got this on."

She closes her eyes and exhales slowly, resting her head against my metal-plated shoulder. Worry is practically radiating off of her.

I swallow, knowing she's nervous because of me. There will never be a time that I don't hate being the cause of her worry. I cradle her against me, rocking her slightly. "I will, I promise."

Amata looks up, startling me with the tears in her eyes. "I just... I'm so scared for you. You barely escaped last time, and now you're going in there to confront him. You're still fighting for me, and now you're taking on one of the biggest battles of my life."

"I do that because I want to," I interject almost immediately. My mind fills with images of Amata being bullied and teased throughout our youth, and of course, is followed up by the memory of her dad ordering for her to be beaten. "I want to protect you. Seeing you hurt would break me, 'Mata, and I can keep you safe this way."

Her brow furrows and her chin quivers almost imperceptibly. "I don't..."

I lean down and capture her lips in a soft kiss. "It'll be okay. I'll be back before you know it." I give her another smile while disentangling myself from her.

Amata still looks doubtful and more than a little concerned. She doesn't move to stop me and watches as I pat my pistol to make sure it's in its place.

I head for the door, wishing I could say something else to comfort her more. Every assurance I can think up ends with either me or the Overseer dead or hurt in some way, so I bite my tongue. "I'll be back soon," I repeat with a gentle smile, slipping out of the office.

Everyone in the clinic is startled to see me in my armor, shrinking away from the foreign sight. I ignore them, focusing on what to say to the Overseer.

My feet walk the familiar path to the Almodovar apartment, leading me to the Overseer's office. Once I arrive, the door slides open just as it has so many times before. I step in and notice that the room is actually somewhat dirty; apparently with Amata gone, the Overseer let his messes pile up.

Surprisingly, the Overseer's office door is open and I step into the doorway to find him at his desk, his head resting on a fist. I almost feel sorry for him because he looks so broken. Not wanting to give him any mercy for everything he's done I force myself to remember him ordering that Amata be beaten. A hot rush of anger shoots through me and I clear my throat with a barely masked growl.

He jerks into a sitting position, his eyes narrowing when they rest on my face.

I toss him a snarky grin. "Miss me?"

A flicker of rage appears in his eyes. "What's the matter? Get tired of searching for your deadbeat father and decide to come back for your punishment?" A smug smile slides into place on his face; he knows that'll hurt.

I bristle at his dig. "Funny, it seems like you're the deadbeat. My dad went out into a deadly world and worked his ass off to make life easier for everyone up there. You, on the other hand, have hid in your little hole in the ground doing what's best for you, even if that means beating your own daughter! My dad  **died**  to protect what he believed in and to protect me. What kind of great stuff have you done lately?  Leading your Vault into civil war doesn't sound particularly noble to me."

The Overseer seems at a loss for words. After a silence that feels longer than it really is, he regains his composure. "The Vault has fallen into disarray, thanks to you and James." He says my dad's name like it's a foul taste in his mouth. "I've kept it unified as best as anyone can, protecting it from the outside. 101 must keep its citizens safe."

"Safe how? By refusing to let anyone go in or out and dooming everyone to die down here in this glorified tin can? Sounds like a great plan to me!"

The Overseer slams his fists on the table and stands, glaring at me with a hatred in his eyes that feels like it could probably cause me to burst into flames.

"Letting in wasteland dogs like you isn't safe! You bring disease and discontent to the people of Vault 101!"

It's safe to say that I'm confused by that statement, but my hand goes to my pistol just to be safe.

"And if your bastard of a father hadn't been a slick talker, you would have stayed outside where you belonged! Instead, you came in and he wasted time and resources with his precious experiments. And  **you**!" The Overseer is practically foaming at the mouth, he's so worked up. "You decided to wedge your way in and try to corrupt Amata! I did my best to protect her, and you-"

"Wait just a minute," I interrupt, burning mad now. "You're saying you protected her? You're saying  **I'm**  dangerous? I don't know if you're aware of this, but I spent half my childhood protecting Amata from all the bullies of the Vault! I made damn sure she would be safe and-"

"No one bullied Amata," he cuts in, apparently getting a thrill out of the irritation I display at being interrupted.

"No? Do the names Butch DeLoria, Wally Mack, or Paul Hannon ring a bell? All those guys used to harass her, make crude jokes, and pretty much anything else you'd expect those guys to do. They'd tease her relentlessly just because she's related to you. The only reason you saw  **me**  as the troublemaker of the generation was because I was always jumping in to protect her!"

The Overseer's face is rigid. "Amata would have told me." He looks like he might actually explode if this continues; a few blood vessels in his neck are standing out.

I shake my head and respond with an exaggerated casual tone, hoping to push his buttons a little. "Doubt it. She was too busy trying to impress her unforgiving prick of a dad that constantly made her feel unimportant."

His eyes narrow dangerously, and a split second later, he's on his feet, the 10mm from his desk drawer pointing right at me. I raise my pistol out of sheer instinct, aiming just above his left eye.

The tension is absolutely suffocating. We're both barely breathing, watching to see who'll shoot first.

I imagine pulling the trigger, doing something I have so many times before. The motion is almost second nature to me now. And yet, something's holding me back this time. I think about how much better off the Vault would be if I would just shoot him, but Amata's face pops into my mind. Her soft words, begging me to not let anything violent happen, echo in my ears.

I draw a deep breath and force myself to calm down. The more logical arguments I'd thought up begin to surface in my brain and I open my mouth to release them. "How safe is it, exactly, to keep your people cooped up in here? Whenever they do finally get out, they'll die of disease almost instantly because of their lack of an immune system. At least now, they still have a little bit of ability to fight off sicknesses from up there." I see a flash of pain in his eyes, but I ignore it and blaze on. "And depending on how long it takes to get out, how long will it be until everyone's sleeping with their brother? The inbreeding will kill everyone before they can even think about surviving outside."

The Overseer falters and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He lowers his gun slightly, regarding me carefully.

I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction, praying to whoever's listening that he doesn't get violent. He's apt to shoot me point blank, whereas I realize I wouldn't go farther than roughing him up a little. Disgusting as he is to me, he's important to Amata. I can't bear to think about Amata's reaction to one of us killing the other.

A scowl forms on his face, and that gives me a tiny bit of hope.

"As disturbing as it is to admit," he says slowly, his eyes dropping to his desk for a moment before focusing on me, "You have a point. The stagnation will hurt us all in the next few generations, I'm sure." He drums his fingertips on his desk absently. "We simply won't survive another hundred years..."

I find myself able to breathe again, but I refrain from smiling.

He leans over and hits the PA button on his desk. "Attention all security, this is the Overseer. Cease all hostile interactions at once." He releases the button, giving me a stern look. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but he shakes his head and puts his gun back in the desk drawer..

"I'm stepping down from the position of Overseer. I'm sure you're aware that Amata will take my place. I hope she'll lead the Vault down a new, more beneficial path." For just an instant I can see a mixture of remorse and pride on his face.

He walks around me, leaving me alone in his office. I'm more than a little shocked that diplomacy actually worked with him; we've never seen eye to eye. I realize that he's probably going to tell Amata the news, and I try to picture her reaction. Then all I can imagine is him ordering an officer to beat her. I spin on my heel and run after her.

By the time I make it back to the clinic, the Overseer—former, I guess—is leaving. He gives me another calculating stare before walking past me and away through the Vault.

After the thumping of his footsteps fades, I take a few quick steps through the clinic, ending up in my father's old office. Amata is standing there, looking shocked. Her eyes flick to me when I enter the room, and she simply stares at me in disbelief. I take the seconds of her silence to look her over for any freshly forming bruises, unable to shake the haunting image.

"I can't believe it," she says, her voice yanking me out of my thoughts. "You actually talked some sense into him."

Out of habit, my eyes take in the scene, searching for signs of a recent scuffle. Finding none, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. "Told you I'd be right back," I tease weakly, all the fight having gone out of me.

Amata laughs, throwing her arms around me in a hug. Her lips brush against my cheek as she whispers a "thank you" in my ear. She releases me a second later and runs out into the clinic, announcing the good news to everyone. "We won!"

There's a split second of surprised silence, then the rebels burst into cheers.

I flop into my father's desk chair, listening as Amata excitedly informs the rebels of her new position as Overseer and how she hopes to start changing things. With all the energy I'd built up before the fateful visit to the Overseer's office, I'm surprised at how relieved and exhausted I am.

While Amata continues to talk to the other Vault residents, I tune her out, looking around the clinic and remembering happier times. I can almost see my dad giving me an exam and shooing me out the door to class. My eyes trace the walls, finding and lingering on the framed verse that's been there for as long as I can remember.

"Revelation 21:6," my father's voice whispers in my ear. "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely."

I get up and walk over toward it, gently lifting the frame off of the wall and staring down at the verse that meant so much to my mother, my dad, and now to me. When I look up, I'm surprised to see what the frame had been covering: a small safe that I hadn't known even existed.

I set the picture frame down and turn to the safe, fishing a bobby pin out of my pocket. Out of curiosity, I try the safe first, but it doesn't open. Since I know I won't have a clue as to the code, I start picking the lock, managing to snap a couple of bobby pins and swearing softly before the door clicks and opens.

The first thing I notice inside is a holotape with my dad's doctor-scrawl on it. It's labeled "Home Sweet Home" and I make a mental note to listen to it as soon as I sort through the other things inside. There's a small bobblehead toy inside, along with a folded up blueprint of some sort. In the very back of the safe is a bag, and the moment my fingers close around it, I'm struck by the sum of caps that must be inside. Judging by the weight, it's well over 100 caps.

I close the safe up and lean against the edge of the desk, looking at the things my dad had hidden away. It's weird to imagine him putting the items in there, since I can't quite picture him alive anymore. A voice in the back of my head tells me that that's what happens when you see a loved one die in front of you. I brush the thought away, gathering the items and going over to my bag, tucking them wherever they'll fit. The caps go together with mine, making a satisfying jingle.

I've just plugged the holotape into my Pipboy when Amata darts back into the room and over to me.

"Come on," she whoops, pressing an excited kiss to my cheek as she grabs my hand. "Everyone wants to hear what happened!"

I reluctantly follow her out into the clinic, wishing there was a way to get out of having to give a victory speech, since I know that's what will end up happening. Public speaking isn't my thing; telling stories is manageable, but having to act more formally is not anything I'm comfortable with.

When we walk out into the middle of the clinic, the air feels like it's buzzing with excitement.

"Go on," Amata encourages me. "Tell them what happened!"

I look at her uncertainly, not really wanting to talk about it and have Amata realize how close the Overseer and I came to attacking each other. The look on her face and the introduction she's given me come together and I know I can't escape.

"Uh, I went in and talked to him," I say uncomfortably, looking around at the expectant stares. "We pretty much just talked it out. It got a little heated, but he ended up realizing he wasn't doing you guys any favors and stepped down."

Amata grins and gestures to me proudly. "And because of her, everything's going to end up right!" Her eyes are shining with pride and she looks like she wants to jump around and scream with glee.

Everyone claps and I blush, glancing at Amata. She grins at me, swooping over and stretching up to kiss me.

The room goes quiet as she pulls away, still beaming up at me. The hair on the back of my neck is standing on end, my danger senses tingling.

The eerily silent room comes to her attention a second later and she falters.

"Ugh. Man, do we have to revolt again?" a voice says, and all eyes go to the speaker, Freddie Gomez. "I don't want the Vault to go to hell 'cause it's being led by one of THOSE."

No one seems to know what to say, all of us having been taken by surprise. Even more surprising is that there are a few assenting murmurs in the crowd of rebels.

A few people start whispering, and I step in front of Amata protectively. Embarrassing as it was for Amata to just up and kiss me in front of everyone, outing us all of a sudden, I'd forgotten about the issue with us both being girls. Up in the wasteland, no one minds. I'd forgotten that down here, people still clung to the pre-war attitudes, which is not good for me and Amata right now.

"Hey, lay off, man," Butch growls, moving over and glaring into Freddie's face.

They're nose to nose and Butch has a few inches on him, but Freddie still finds it in himself to snarl.

"I'm warning you, lay off."

"Why should I? They're fuckin' freaks, Butch!"

Butch gives Freddie a violent shove and sends him tumbling into the wall. "Watch your mouth, Gomez. You're more of a freak than they are. 'Sides, she just saved our butts!" He watches as Freddie starts to get up and pulls out his knife, playing with it threateningly.

Freddie looks like he wants to retaliate, but eyes Butch's knife and thinks better of it. He lets out a snort and looks away, turning red with what's probably a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Butch looks around at everyone else, apparently waiting to see if anyone else will challenge us. Then he tosses me a smile.

The air is still filled with tension as Butch and I stare everyone down. When I glance over my shoulder to check on Amata, I see her retreating into the office. I look back at the rebels, a little surprised at the hatred in most of their eyes. What makes it worse is that it seems more deep-seated than if it was solely based on the kiss.

Understanding smacks me in the face a moment later. My dad and I were the reasons the Vault went to hell in the first place. Even if I've just helped resolve the conflict that resulted, people still hate me for messing everything up. Appealing to their homophobic side isn't making it any better; if anything, it gave them an outlet to express their rage.

I swallow uncertainly, backing up to the office door and ducking inside. Even with all the venomous glares in my direction, I'm more concerned for Amata.

Amata's sitting on the cot, hugging her knees to her chest, forehead resting on them. I can see her shaking slightly and I'm not sure if she's crying or not.

"'Mata?" I call softly. "You okay?" Without really waiting for an answer, I go over and sit beside her, ready to offer comfort in any way I can.

"I'm so stupid," she mumbles, sounding a little teary.

"No, you're-"

"I wasn't thinking! I knew everyone would react that way! Don't you remember how everyone used to tease Paul because he was 'different'?" She looks up at me, her cheeks red and her eyes watery. She stares at me helplessly for a few moments before she looks away again.

"I don't... uh. Look, it doesn't help that you picked me to kiss." I shift uncomfortably. "They're not exactly happy with me in the first place."

Amata closes her eyes, sighs, and lowers her head. "I'm... can you just... leave me alone?"

"But 'Mata..." I rest a hand on her shoulder, surprised when she shrugs it off violently.

She lifts her head and glowers at me, pain flashing in her eyes. "Stop it."

My shoulders sag, and I feel somewhat like I've been stabbed. "I just-"

"I don't care," she huffs, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Just  **leave**."

I don't want to, especially when she looks so broken, but I get up and walk out numbly.

Even though the Overseer called off his security guards, the ones I do see still jeer at me, telling me to go back to the wastes where I belong.

I'm in a daze. Everything seems to be crumbling around me and I can't do anything to stop it. Without realizing it, I end up outside the apartment my dad and I had shared, staring at the door. It occurs to me that I used to call this home but I haven't gone to visit it once since I've been back. Everything else has been too important.

I open the door and step into the living room area. The room's in disarray, looking much like it had the day I left the Vault. Memories reenact themselves before me and I watch them numbly, not really able to feel anymore grief for my father or our old life.

I enter my father's room next, only to find that he had pretty much taken everything when he left. There's nothing of his left in the room.

I'm drained enough that I want to collapse on his bed and sleep for as long as possible, but I'm struck by the sudden need to see my old room. I step out of my dad's room, turn around, and hit the button to open my old bedroom door.

When the door hisses open, I'm startled by the sight of someone there. My hand goes to my gun immediately, though I relax a little when I realize I recognize the voice.

"What the-" Wally Mack starts, his eyes narrowing when he sees it's me. "Oh, boy, are you in trouble."

I raise an eyebrow, wondering what kind of trouble he's foreseeing. "What makes you say that?"

"I mean you shouldn't have bothered to show your face in here again. You don't belong here, remember?"

I don't have a response to that and I sent my jaw as a proud look appears on his face. As raw as my emotions are, I really don't think I can handle dealing with Wally without something bad happening.

"Man, you should'a seen my pop," Wally says, throwing himself onto my old bed and stretching out. "After you and your wuss of a dad left, he ran out and started killing radroaches like there was no tomorrow. Then he got everyone back in order. It was awesome." He wrinkles his nose and looks over at me disdainfully. "But I guess you wouldn't know what it's like to have a hero for a dad, would you?"

Before I'm even aware of it, I've drawn my pistol and leveled it at him.

"Whoa, what the hell?" Wally yells, jumping up and backing away until he bumps into the wall behind him.

"Don't you ever talk bad about my dad, you worthless prick," I growl, my words filled with all the pent-up and anger and venom in my system. I click the safety off and hold the gun on him, getting a sick pleasure out of watching him sweat. After a few moments, I jerk the barrel toward the door. "Get out."

A look of indignation passes over his face. "Hey, hold up! I live here!"

"Get. Out," I repeat, starting to quake with emotion. I try to convince myself that I'm only furious, but I'm fighting a lump in my throat and I know I'm only acting so violently because the world seems to be crumbling around me.

Wally looks at my gun for all of two seconds before he bolts.

After his footsteps fade, I turn the safety back on and holster my pistol, sinking onto the edge of my old bed. I bury my face in my hands, drawing a shuddering breath. I don't want to start crying, but now that I'm alone, I can't stop the burning of tears in my eyes. I fight it off for a second, but a sob escapes me. Then everything else I've been holding back seems to burst forth and I'm bawling.


	5. Chapter 5

I cry until my chest is sore and I can barely breathe through the stuffiness of my nose. I'm aware that hours have passed, but I'm not sure how many and I don't feel like checking. I don't really feel much better, or at least not yet, but I do feel numb and very drained. At some point, I've laid down and curled up around my old pillow, apparently needing  _something_  to hold onto as everything else went to hell.

Laying there on my Vault bed, holding onto a pillow, I realize how fortunate people in the Vaults are. I've rarely seen a decent mattress, much less a pillow, out in the wastes.  _Don't forget the water,_  my father's voice murmurs in my ear. It occurs to me that, as hard as it is to survive, I prefer the simplicity and lack of most amenities of the wastes, and that I'll never be completely comfortable in the sterility of a Vault again.

Something inside me relaxes a little at that thought; the part of me that had been so worried about deciding between Amata and the wasteland has finally gotten a decent answer from my subconscious. It's one less thing to bother with and I'm grateful that the stress over that has finally ebbed.

There's a knock at the door and I jump at the sudden intrusion, mumbling a "come in" as I dry my cheeks.

The heavy clumping of boots tells me right away that it's not Amata, and I glance up to see Butch swaggering in.

"Hey, uh..." Butch's voice trails off into an uncomfortable silence as he realizes that I've been crying.

It's an understatement to say that I'm surprised that Butch is the one that's come to see me, but I figure that he's probably the only person left in the Vault that doesn't hate me, since he was the only one to stand up for me in the clinic.

"You okay?" he asks lamely, fidgeting by opening and closing his pocketknife.

I snort in response. "Oh, I'm peachy. Isn't that obvious? What do you want?"

Butch looks like he can't quite decide how to respond. After a second, the corner of his mouth quirks in a grin. "Amata said somethin' about a big announcement. Figured you oughta be there for it."

I roll my eyes, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up. "Why would I want to go back into a room filled with people who hate me? You saw them, Butch. Give me one good reason to put myself back in that situation."

He leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't let nothin' happen. If you can save my mom and then survive out there for half a year, you're okay in my book." Coming from him and given our history, that's one of the biggest compliments Butch could give me. "Anyway, Amata personally asked me to come get you. So I guess it's important."

I grumble a little bit, but get to my feet and follow Butch out without a glance back at my old home. It has no value to me anymore, and I'm curious about what Amata's speech is going to be about.

As Butch and I amble back toward the clinic, he starts talking to fill the silence. "Hey, so I was thinkin'. What if I left the Vault, too? I mean, if you made it, I can make it easy, right? I'll start a gang, and we'll be the badass-est gang in the wasteland!" He continues rambling about his new plan and I can't help a smile from forming on my face.

 _Oh Butch. If only you knew._ Imagining him encountering a deathclaw and shrieking like a little girl makes me nearly burst into laughter, but then the clinic comes into view and a wave of solemnity crashes over my shoulders.

Butch nudges me with his elbow and grins, then leads me into the clinic.

There's hushed murmuring from the rebels gathered around, and Amata's standing in the center of the clinic, pacing a little and looking antsy. Butch clears his throat once we're inside, and everyone goes quiet.

Amata's eyes flick to me, then to the floor, and she suddenly straightens up and seems like she's in charge.

"All right, everyone," she begins, her voice strong and commanding, "I have my first announcement as Overseer."

Everyone shuts up to listen, and all eyes go to Amata. She seems to stand a little taller and her posture takes on a sense of authority.

"I know we've all been struggling for a long time, and our struggles aren't over yet. Things will change, but they can't change overnight. Today, we took a major step in the right direction. The old Overseer has stepped down, giving way to a whole new era in Vault 101." She's interrupted by a few cheers, and a proud smile starts to grow on her face.

"To keep the Vault strong as we forge ahead into the new, open future, we need unity, loyalty, and the willingness to make hard choices and sacrifices." She's still standing strong, but something seems to change and her smile seems forced.

Judging by the rapt expressions on everyone else's faces, I'm the only one who noticed her voice nearly catch on her last few words. I feel an ominous pressure building in my chest as Amata falters and glances at me.

"What happened today wouldn't have been possible without some special help," she continues, holding my gaze for a moment, then tearing her eyes away. She points to me, and I can almost feel everyone's eyes flicking over to me. "She succeeded in what we all tried and failed to do. That in itself is worth more than words can probably express."

Amata pauses again, taking a few steps toward me and addressing me directly. "You saved us from what has probably been the biggest conflict in the history of the Vault. You're our hero. But no matter how much you did to save us, you're still the cause of all the fighting and bitterness that's lingering here. So you're still our hero, but more than that, you're our biggest weakness. I have to ask you to leave."

I'm stunned into silence by Amata's words, and no one else is saying anything. I feel a lump rising in my throat as my eyes begin to burn. Rather than start crying again, I raise my chin defiantly, turning on my heel and walking into the office. I grab my bag and stuff the things that had been taken out back in.

When all my stuff is packed away, I sling my bag over my shoulder, walking out of the office.

The walk through the clinic feels unfathomably long, mostly because of all the hateful stares and cruel murmurs of "Good riddance."

Amata's standing by the door, practically radiating her stern leadership. Her posture doesn't quite match her eyes, and there's something in them that I can't decipher, not that I particularly want to right now, either. I feel completely shattered by her words. All that talk about how much she loved me, and now I'm being kicked out.

My own thoughts about leaving the Vault and Amata come rushing back, and I know for sure that any hope for them is completely dashed now.

I realize I've stopped walking and am staring at Amata, the room unbearably quiet all around me. Amata's eyes are still unreadable, though a trace of sadness has become visible on her face. I want to roll my eyes and scoff; she has no right to be sad, since she's the one getting rid of me.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and brush past her more rudely than I know I should. As I walk away from the clinic, I'm tempted to kick one of the lockers in the hall to vent some of my emotions. The only thing that stops me is the knowledge that I'll probably cripple my foot, and I'd rather not have to limp back to Megaton and explain that to the grouchy old doctor there.

I make it halfway to the atrium before I hear footsteps behind me. My hand goes to my pistol instinctively, even though I know who it'll be. I turn and glance over my shoulder, unsurprised to see Amata there. Her eyes are downcast and her posture lacks the authority it had earlier.

"I wanted to walk you to the door," she mumbles. "Is that... I mean, can I?"

I'm quiet. I would almost rather her not, but I know I'd never forgive myself for giving up the last chance I'll have to see her. I give her a little shrug and continue toward the Vault entrance. Amata falls into step beside me, but neither of us say anything.

The air between us is loaded with tension, and I can almost feel my heart breaking all over again. Just hours ago, being able to spend time with Amata would have made me feel like I was on top of the world. Now she feels like an enemy, almost a stranger, to me. Thinking of her, cheesy as it sounds, was what has kept me going through some of the most difficult situations of my life. Her being so close to me now feels suffocating, and almost makes me shaky with anger and confusion.

I want to yell at her and ask her what's just happened and why everything's going to hell, but before I can work up the courage to do so, we're standing in front of the Vault door.

"I'm sorry," she says after a few long moments, looking anywhere but at me.

I have no idea what I'm feeling. My chest feels like it's being twisted and torn apart, and it somehow hurts worse than all of my near-death experiences out in the wastes.

The sirens go off and the Vault door opens as Amata activates the switch at the panel. The screech is loud enough to make us both flinch.

I glance between Amata and the opening leading to the wasteland, unable to figure out how to make my feet move. "Amata, I-"

She shakes her head, silencing me. "Please, just... leave. This is hard enough."

I open my mouth again, but nothing comes out. For some reason, I glance down at my Pipboy, my eyes going to the clock. It's a little past six in the evening and a sudden thought strikes me. I look down the tunnel to the wasteland and see golden beams of light streaming through the slats in the wooden door. Angry and hurt as I am, this is something I have to share with her, no matter what. That's enough to convince me to turn back to Amata.

She's got her arms crossed over her chest protectively, still avoiding meeting my gaze.

"Amata," I breathe, my tone gentle and coaxing. "Please look at me."

It takes her a few seconds, but she sighs and lifts her chin, meeting my gaze. I see tears in her eyes and it takes everything in me not to wrap her up in my arms, no matter how much it would hurt.

"Trust me?" After another long hesitation, she gives me an almost imperceptible nod. "Come with me." When she opens her mouth to protest, I quickly add to my plea. "Just for a few seconds, I swear."

I almost can't believe it when she gives me another tiny nod of agreement. Without taking my eyes off of her, I back toward the Vault door. She follows me right up to the threshold. I step across it, feeling the now-familiar crunch of gravel under my boots.

Amata stops just inside the Vault, fear obvious in her eyes. She looks at me almost pleadingly, everything about her expression asking me not to make her do this.

I reach my hand out to her, putting as much of a smile on my face as my broken heart can manage. "Trust me," I say again. "I won't let anything bad happen."

Amata tentatively takes my hand, then forces herself to take a shaky step off the metal flooring of the Vault and onto the rocks outside. I squeeze her hand proudly, leading her to the wooden door at the end of the tunnel.

As I open the door and we step out into the wastes, we're treated to a spectacular sunset. The sky is full of fiery oranges and royal tones of purple. I glance over at Amata, satisfied to see her awestruck at one of nature's last surviving beauties.

The colors swell, then fade to a dark violet as the sun dips below the horizon. Amata's still somewhat overwhelmed as I lead her back through the tunnel. I stop at the threshold, turning to look at her. The Vault lights inside create a sort of halo around her, and I can't decide if it makes her look more beautiful or if it's some sort of cruel irony. I want so desperately to hate her for this, but something inside me can't.

We stare at each other for an indeterminable length of time, simply memorizing everything we can about each other.

All of a sudden, Amata's face crumples and she takes a few steps toward me, throwing herself into my arms as she begins to cry.

Almost every single part of me wants to shove her away, to show her some of the pain she's set upon me, but my arms go around her anyway, cradling her gently. After all, if this is the last chance I'll ever have to hold her, I'm sure as hell not giving it up.

"I didn't want this," she sniffles, clinging to me as if her life depends on it. "B-but I had to! You saw how everyone reacted. There'd have been... been another revolt. I swear I didn't want this to happen," she whimpers, burying her face in my shoulder.

I'm at a complete loss for words. Even though she's pressed up against me, it feels like there's a million miles between us. It amazes me how quickly everything seems to have changed. Just hours ago, I was waking up in her arms, and now...

"Why aren't you saying  _anything_?" she asks, wiping tears from her cheeks. She pulls herself out of my arms and looks up at me.

"Just... why? Why didn't you fight for me?" I bite my lip, hoping to ease the tremble in my voice. "You're the Overseer, damn it! You have the power to do whatever you want!"

"Not all of us are like you," she shoots back. "We can't fight everything! We can't just run out of the Vault, guns blazing, and do what we have to do to survive, much less what we want!"

"'Guns blazing?'" I repeat. "Wait, you think I'm mowing down everyone I come across? Are you serious?" The haunting conversation we'd had about killing comes back to me, and I can almost hear a voice crowing "I told you so!" in my ear.

Amata's eyes flick to the floor, the uncomfortable little shift telling me that I was right.

"Amata, we talked about this. I only do what I absolutely have to. It's not like I'm some completely different person."

She hesitates. "Maybe not, but... You have changed." Her eyes come up to meet mine. "You're... rougher, somehow."

I huff a little at that. "Yeah, I guess seeing my dad die in front of me, having to fight for my life every day, and getting my heart broken by my best friend doesn't really soften me up," I retort bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Do you think this is easy for me?" she fires back, sounding hurt. "I'm having to kick my best friend out of my home, knowing that you're going to be in mortal danger, and knowing I can't do anything to protect you." Fresh anguish appears on her face. "You have to be careful. Promise me you'll be careful."

I'm quiet. I don't want to promise her anything, not when I'm hurting so badly because of her. I know the odds, especially now that the Enclave's involved in Project Purity. Right now, part of me is hurting so badly that I'd almost enjoy a fight to the death with the Enclave, knowing I'd have no shot at surviving. Another part of me is instantly sickened at the thought, so I do my best to push it from my mind.

Once again, we're left staring at each other in silence, completely at a loss for how to handle our last few minutes together. There's so many angry things we could say, but they seem to die our throats.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Me too." I _am_ sorry for the way things are happening. If I could, I'd change it all so there wouldn't be so much hurt for either of us.

"Maybe we'll see each other again," she sniffles.

We both know that's not true, but I nod anyway. "Maybe so."

A charged silence stretches between us, though Amata finally breaks it.

"You need to leave." She barely manages to get the words out without her voice cracking.

The words sting all over again, and I feel a lump rising in my throat. Not trusting my voice, I just nod again.

Despite what we've just agreed on, neither of us seem to be able to move. It's possible that we could be here forever if we just continue staring at each other, wishing the situation was different.

As we stand there in the entrance to Vault 101, I'm suddenly struck by the memory of the first time we were here, with Amata trying to smuggle me out of the Vault. I'd been terrified of leaving the Vault and heading into the unknown wasteland, without a clue as to whether or not I could survive. While I'm better prepared this time, I realize I'm still scared to leave the Vault, but for different reasons. Leaving now means walking away from the only girl I've ever loved, forever.

I search for a way to put a positive spin on the situation, but I find none. I look at Amata and the emotion in her eyes makes me realize that we're both waiting for each other to step up and make the first move. I know that if our positions were reversed, I'd never in a million years be able to force Amata to leave, which I means I have to be the strong one.  _Damn._

I clear my throat. While it hurts almost more than I can bear, a small part of me can understand the reasons why things are ending up this way. That alone makes it slightly easier to step up and be the adult. "I guess that's it, then?"

She seems sick at the words, knowing they mean forever, but she nods, drying her tears on the sleeve of her jumpsuit.

"Then do me a favor?" I ask gently, waiting until she looks at me to continue. "Be happy, 'Mata."

She lets out a miserable bark of laughter. "Yeah right. That's impossible. You're leaving."

I can't help but feel a little better; at least after everything else that's going on, she still loves me. Despite the solemnity of the situation, a little smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Amata draws a shaky breath and looks up at me. "Be careful," she begs again.

I nod this time, more to ease her mind than anything. "I know what's out there now, so I'm prepared for it."

The worry in her eyes eases slightly at the thought.

Our time is running out; if we draw this out much longer, the rebels will get mad and come looking for their new Overseer and find her here with me, their most hated enemy. An upset sigh escapes me before I can stop it.

Amata's eyes are still trained on me and I meet them and offer her a sad little smile.

There's a sense of finality in the air, and I let my instincts take over in our last few minutes together. I step toward her, cupping her cheeks in my hands.

"I love you," I whisper before leaning forward and kissing her.

I fill the kiss with all of the passion and love I have for her. She returns it after a moment of surprise, and we get lost in each other for a few precious seconds.

When we break apart, Amata's crying again, and I know if I stay any longer, I'll start, too. It's up to me to be the strong one for both of us, so as much as it kills me to do it, I turn away from her.

"Goodbye, Amata."

She tries to choke out a response, but all that comes is a gut-wrenching sob.

My entire body is screaming at me to go comfort her, but I ignore it and shakily take a few steps toward the door to the wasteland. I make it about halfway down the tunnel before I turn around.

Amata's still in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself as though they're the only things holding her together.

I lift my hand in a last wave, turning and going to the slatted wooden door that separates me from the wastes. My hand goes to the handle and I hesitate, waiting to hear the Vault door screech closed. After a few painful moments, it does.

The sound makes me open the door and step through it into the wasteland. The little door falls shut behind me with a soft  _chak_ as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

I wonder for a moment why my vision is blurred, then I realize that I'm about to start crying again. I'm tempted to collapse and let myself bawl like I had earlier, but I force myself to stay standing. Everything in my chest constricts and my heart threatens to break all over again.

I draw a deep breath of the fresh wasteland air, letting the gentle breeze soothe me a little. I know if I let it, my mind will berate me for what I've just done, so I start trying to distract myself. I somehow manage to force my thoughts to Project Purity, thinking about the lives that I'll save by finishing my parents' dream. Like usual, a little glimmer of hope at the thought of pure water forms in my chest. I take another breath, focusing on that hope and trying to magnify it so it blocks out everything else.

After a moment, it fails to grow at all, and I'm left feeling just as hurt and empty as before. I sigh and start walking toward Megaton, trying not to let my grief overwhelm me.

A few hours later, I end up in Moriarty's Saloon, nursing a drink as Gob cleans the bar and Nova argues with Moriarty.

"What'sa matter, smoothskin?" Gob asks, slinging the rag over his shoulder and coming over to me. "You're not normally so quiet."

I frown at my glass, swirling the scotch in it around a little. "Trouble on the homefront," I answer after a moment, downing the rest of my drink and pulling a few caps from my pocket. "Got my heart broken earlier today."

"Oh." Gob hesitates before pushing the caps toward me. "On the house," he mumbles, giving me a sneaky little grin. "If you want, I mean... uh... from what I hear, Nova's good at, uh, comforting..." Gob's gaze drops to the floor awkwardly.

I actually consider it for a second before snorting. I couldn't do that. Not so soon after everything that just happened. "Thanks, Gob, but that's okay. I... I'll be okay eventually."

Even though I know that I'll be hurting for a while, the truth of my words shoots right to my core. I  _will_  be okay. The thought alone brings back the little glimmer of hope, and I find it in me to manage a half smile, though I'm not sure if it's the idea of the future or the alcohol that puts the smile on my face.

I get to my feet and hand Gob the caps again. "A tip for my favorite bartender," I tell him, pretending not to notice that I'm wobbling slightly. "Have a good night."

I wander out of the saloon and toward my house, heading inside and crawling into my bed. I force myself not to cry myself to sleep, holding onto the knowledge that I'll be okay as I drift off. As sleep begins to overtake me, I can feel the resilient wastelander in me preparing myself for whatever new quest tomorrow will bring, whether it's fighting through a broken heart or risking my life for the good of the Capital Wasteland.


End file.
